


Falling is Just Like Flying

by killerweasel



Series: Falling [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV Series)
Genre: Fallen Angels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-10 15:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerweasel/pseuds/killerweasel
Summary: Falling is just like flying, except there is a more permanent destination. Or Crowley helps some newly Fallen Archangels.





	Falling is Just Like Flying

Title: Falling is Just Like Flying  
Fandom: Good Omens (TV Series)  
Characters: Crowley, Sandalphon  
Word Count: 1,121  
Rating: R  
A/N: After Episode 6.  
Summary: Falling is just like flying, except there is a more permanent destination. Or Crowley helps some newly Fallen Archangels.

Crowley had just made himself comfortable in front of the television when he heard the sound of glass shattering outside. Then the ground shook with a sudden impact. “What the Heaven?” Setting his bottle of wine down on the floor, he ventured outside to see what was going on.

He stood on the porch, staring at the large hole in the roof of his greenhouse. His eyes narrowed as he felt something odd from inside of the building. Crowley snapped his fingers, miracling himself inside. What he saw shook him to his core.

It had been thousands of years since he’d seen a freshly Fallen angel, but it wasn’t something he could forget. Crowley crouched down next to the huddled form. He could feel himself start to shake, probably caused by the smell of burnt flesh and feathers, and fought to keep from remembering his own Fall. A couple of unburnt feathers blew across the dirt floor of the greenhouse and landed against his legs. He reached down, snagged one, and brought it to his face. The feather stank of angelic grace. It was a muted white with speckles of tan. Crowley frowned for a moment, trying to place what he was smelling. When he finally figured it out, his eyes widened.

“Sandalphon?” Crowley reached out a shaking hand, holding it just above the center of the fallen angel’s back. “This is going to hurt, you have no idea how much it will, but if I don’t do something, your new body will start to rot on the bones. We figured it out after our own Fall. That’s why some of us look less horrible than others. I apologize in advance.”

“Do it.” His voice was hoarse from screaming. Sandalphon’s claws dug into the dirt as he braced himself for the pain to come. “Please.”

Crowley closed his eyes as he summoned a tremendous amount of energy. He felt his wings manifest behind him. Leaning closer, he wrapped his wings around them both before resting his hands on Sandalphon’s back. “I’m going to have to do this in steps. Something of this magnitude drains the Heaven out of me.” He took a deep breath and let the energy flow.

When the screaming started, Crowley was grateful the cottage was a good ten minutes away from any of the neighbors. The last thing he needed was for the police to show up looking for a possible murder victim. The burnt flesh under his hands began to knit back together, slowly healing itself from the inside out. It was also purging anything Holy still left inside of what used to be an angel. The two things couldn’t co-exist without causing tremendous amounts of pain.

Sandalphon writhed under Crowley’s touch, screaming until he could taste blood in his throat. Somehow this was actually worse than the Fall. It was as if he was being remade from the inside out, becoming something entirely new. His body was shaking so hard he thought he might come apart. Then it mercifully stopped.

Crowley slumped down across Sandalphon’s back, breathing harshly. The skin on his fingers was red and blistered. He wetted his lips with his tongue. “You still with me, Sandalphon?”

“Yes.” It was more of a croak than a word. “Why are you helping me?”

Sandalphon’s voice was so low Crowley had to strain to hear it. A tiny smile crossed the demon’s lips. “Oddly enough, demons tend to help one another out far more than angels do. Sure, we’ll also tear one another to pieces, but this is something we all went through. And when it happens, we help because it’s the one thing we have in common.” He sat up, gently pulling Sandalphon into his lap. “I can do this again tomorrow. We’re both going to need to recover a bit.”

“I can’t see anything.” Sandalphon slumped against Crowley. “It’s just darkness.”

“Sometimes that happened. If you had your eyes open when you came down, they tended to be destroyed.” He stared down at Sandalphon’s face, wincing at the almost empty sockets. He could see something very much like Hellfire flickering inside. Crowley touched the skin under Sandalphon’s eyes carefully. The former Archangel flinched, but didn’t pull away. “You’ve met Duke Hastur? His did the same thing. Took about a week before the new ones came in.”

“I’m not the only one who was punished.”

“Going to go out on a limb here and guess that Gabriel, Michael, and Uriel are going through the same thing right now.” Crowley sighed when he saw Sandalphon’s nod. “You really should have given Aziraphale a trial. I got one down in Hell. You lot just decided to be judge, jury, and executioner. Are they coming here too?”

“I don’t know.”

“Right.” Crowley snapped his fingers and the softest pajamas he could make appeared on Sandalphon’s frame. He eased Sandalphon into a sitting position, keeping a hand on the other demon’s arm. “Come on, up you get. I’ve got you, I won’t let you stumble.”

Sandalphon stood slowly, wobbling a bit as got to his feet. His ruined wings flickered a few times before disappearing. He held onto Crowley’s elbow as they started to move.

“We need to get you inside. I have to contact Hell and tell them what’s going on. If the rest of the Fallen end up here, I can’t heal them all myself.” He’d barely gotten the words out when a shriek of pain came from the sky above him. He tilted his head back, watching as two more angels came tumbling towards the ground, their bodies covered in flame.

“I’ll be fine, Crowley. Go help them.” Sandalphon flinched as the screams grew louder.

“Fuck.” Crowley was moving before he realized it. He tried to calculate where the Fallen would land. Their trajectory seemed to be aiming for the small lake behind the cottage. He snapped his fingers, increasing the lake’s depth and width. The miracle used up most of what was left of his energy and he stumbled by the water’s edge.

The first of the Fallen hit the water, sending a cloud of steam into the air. Crowley waited for the second to land before diving in after them both. He popped to the surface with a former Archangel clinging to each of his shoulders. It took a few minutes, but they finally reached land. Crowley collapsed next to them on the sand, gasping for breath.

He reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out his phone (the phone knew better than to allow the water to damage it). With a sigh, he hit a couple of buttons before bringing the phone to his ear. “Lord Beelzebub? We have a problem.”


End file.
